One Man Army [2430-2-3-Mon-1:30 pm]

[Hiram Cooper]

There were more goblins in the desert lately. Sometimes Hiram could see them moving just on the edges of his sight, where the haze and the heat came together to make everything look like a dream. But Hiram knew the difference between dreams and reality, and the bodies he left lying on the desert floor were real.

They were after the cattle. Hiram wasn’t sure if it was to feed an army, or because they didn’t much care for humans being out here, but they had kept Hiram and his rifle busy. Sometimes, he could see something larger traveling with them, dragons maybe, or wyrms, but they never came close. Hiram didn’t know if Shaw believed in mermaid oil, but so far it had continued to prove its use.

Hiram was out stringing up barbed wire when he noticed another squad of goblins coming close. These ones were traveling with the big wyrms, but as they tried to come in close to the ranch, they came to a sudden stop. The big things made shrill noises and writhed around, refusing to move closer no matter how they were prodded or poked. Hiram noted their approach, and set his hammer on the ground, picking up his rifle and radio, pressing the button and calling back to the ranch, “There’s goblins out here. Looks like a whole clan. Keep the cattle in the southern pasture.”

There was no real concern or worry in Hiram’s voice. He was outnumbered, but there were plenty of other men back on the ranch. And the goblins were dangerous, but a lot less dangerous without their wyrms to back them up. It looked like a few were coming over. There was a big one leading a group of scrawnier looking warriors. Hiram just loaded his rifle and waited to see if this was going to be an exchange of words or an exchange of bullets.

[Dengar]

Dengar was grinding his teeth, furious at what he was looking at. A blasted human with just a single rifle. Nothing else. Somehow, for weeks, this blasted human had confused the Wingless with some sort of magic or repellent or something. Too many of his Goblins have died because the moment one of the Wingless comes within sniffing range of this damned human, they freak out and refuse to get any closer.

Dengar needed to know exactly what it was this filthy little pink skin had that did that. Without the Wingless, the Goblins would never be able to secure the ranch and all of the delicious cattle. His army was hungry, and hunting in the deserts had long since stopped. So far, he'd been able to feed them on what they could pillage from the idiotic dwarven caravans that ferried supplies to the human spaceport. Most of them carried various trinkets and smithing products, but once in a while they would ship out the various fungi and moss that grew in the caverns in the mountainous region.

It kept most of the Goblins alive and in fighting condition, but morale had fallen since meat became so scarce within the ranks. No, Dengar needed this ranch to fall, and he needed it to fall now. All he needed to do to achieve that was find out why this human could stop his Wingless, and to put an end to it.

As Dengar approached the human, the Wingless stopped and refused to get any closer. He threw several savage punches into the neck of the beast closest to him, but it still refused to move. He growled and stomped away, frustrated. A few of the other Goblins drew up in ranks behind him. Well, if you could call it ranks. For a Goblin scout party it was pretty organized.

Dengar and his warriors stopped about ten yards away. Close enough to hear the human but far enough away he'd be able to react if he attacked. "You puzzle me, human," Dengar shouted, using the word human more as an insult then a descriptive, "what blasted magic keeps my dragons from coming near you?" There. No need to waste time exchanging pleasantries. The sooner this meeting is resolved, the sooner Dengar can take the ranch.

[Hiram Cooper]

The big fellow yelled Hiram’s way. So he wanted to know what was keeping him away? It didn’t surprise Hiram that goblins didn’t know about mermaid oil. The stuff was strictly blackmarket, and even legal traders avoided dealing with goblins, since they had a habit of not paying for any wares. Of course, dwarves would probably pay through the nose for mermaid oil, if a fellow were inclined to see that sort of opportunity. Hiram wasn’t.

However, he considered the goblin’s question, even though it was somewhat ridiculous. There was no reason for Hiram to engage with the goblins, not without some sort of back-up, but he wasn’t afraid. He had his boots and his rifle, and he was a damn good shot with it. So he called back to the goblin leader, replying with a short but vague answer, “No magic at work here. They just don’t like the smell of me.”

[Dengar]

Smell. Some kind of repellent then. Dengar growled again, though he doubted the human would have seen or heard it. Stupid, stupid beasts. Afraid of a smell. Somehow, he needed to find a way to counter act this.... whatever it was. That meant he needed to know what it was made of. It couldn't be anything on this planet, it would already be widely used by anyone who wanted to travel the desert unmolested. That meant it was from one of the other planets. "Damned off worlders, meddling in my planets affairs," he thought.

Dengar returned his attention to the human. "Where did you get this repellent? What is it called?" he asked, then added, "Be warned. We will find out one way or another even if we have to rip it out of you. Save your own life and tell us now."

Even as he asked the question, Dengar was still trying to figure out where the repellent might have come from. It was impossible for it to be coming naturally from him. No other human secreted something that repelled any kind of animal, let alone a Wingless. It could be from Terra, they had all kinds of scientists and laboratories spending all their waking hours over an experiment. Though it wasn't likely. The capitalistic nature of humans prevented anything from staying private among a few citizens that weren't in positions of power.

Other then Terra, Dengar had little knowledge of the planets beyond Heimdall. He'd have to find a way to get more knowledge on them. With humans at the spaceport, and the fact they trade and are generally friendly to the dwarves and not the Goblins, he'd need to figure out as much as possible to beat the Dwarves.

[Hiram Cooper]

"Seems to me that I could tell you, but then you wouldn't have much reason to leave me alive," Hiram called back to the goblin squad, hands steady on the rifle. He wasn't about to make a move just yet. He was a good shot, but they had numbers, and by the time he reloaded, the big one could be on Hiram and using his guts for garters.

There was really only one solution. It was getting real tiresome repelling the goblins and their wryms. Eventually, they were going to punch on through and do some real damage. Hiram may have only been a farmhand, but he appreciated Shaw hiring him and paying Hiram. Seemed like there was only one solution to this quandary, "How about we make a deal. You and your men leave this ranch alone, and I'll tell you what it is and where I got it."

[Dengar]

"We'd leave you alive if you tell us now and do not interfere with us later on," Dengar answered. Though honestly, the simple fact of staying on the planet would be considered interference. Dengar had no intention of allowing other races on his planet after he cleans the Dwarves and humans from it. Well, most of the humans. That spaceport might one day come in handy if Dengar wanted to turn his sights to other worlds.

A savage grin broke across Dengar's face as the human made the offer. That would be perfect, if he could trust the human. That would never happen. He'd need some kind of insurance against being tricked. "I would readily accept such an offer, if I could trust you," he shouted. "I would need some kind of reassurance that you wouldn't just hand me some scented water and call it a day. What can you do to give me that?" Dengar had no intention of keeping any promise with a human. He'd play along and get what he wanted, then kill them if they didn't leave the planet. Or just straight up kill them. One less human or dwarf or any of the other races, the better.

[Hiram Cooper]

"I've got no plans to interfere with you fellows, long as you clear out of here," Hiram kept a careful eye on them. He wouldn't trust the big fellow as far as he could throw him. There was a look in his eyes that Hiram knew well. He wanted power, and he was the sort of creature who would do it by any means possible.

"I don't have anything to give you, 'cept a name. This ain't a thing you need to use everyday. Haven't touched a tin of it in over a year," He called back to the goblin. Even if he had a tin, he wouldn't be giving it up so easily and for nothing but a promise. A tin could cover every fence post 'round Shaw's land and protect it. Hell, that wasn't a bad idea. Hiram wasn't too sure Shaw would be fine with that. He seemed like an ethical man, and mermaid oil was anything but.

Hiram looked out over the goblins, doing some quick estimations in his head, "I ain't going to lie to you, since that would just make you come back, and I'd rather you and yours cleared out and took your fight to the Dwarves instead of us. But you'll just have to take me at my word."

[Dengar]

Dengar grinned. This human wasn't stupid. Too bad Dengar would eventually have to take the ranch, no matter what he 'promised' this man. Out of all the humans Dengar has met, he liked this one. He seemed a man who did what he wanted and didn't care much what others thought of him. Of course, those few qualities did not overcome the fact he was on Dengars planet. He needed to leave it, or be dealt with.

"I'll make an agreement only if you also provide the planet it's from and the process of making it, if you know how. If not, what it's made of will do fine," Dengar called out. Goblins weren't known for their scientific knowledge, but with enough time and supplies they would be able to figure out the right technique and mixtures even if it had to bubble down to trial and error. "Does that sound fair to you?"

[Hiram Cooper]

Hiram nodded. Seemed fair enough, or about fair as he was going to get. He doubted that this would be the last he saw of the goblin, but it would do for now. By the time he came back around, the ranch should have some real defences in place, “Fair’s fair.”

“It’s called mermaid oil. The stuff’s from Corus,” Hiram called out to the goblin and his troops. He wasn’t sure how good it would do the goblins, but they were welcome to the info all the same. Maybe they could figure out something, given time, “It’s greasy black stuff, comes in a tin. Don’t know quite what’s in it, but I’ll take a guess and say it’s exactly what the name says it is.”

[Dengar]

Dengar barked an order to the Goblins around him in there native tongue. A ripple of angry shouts answered him. In response, Dengar hit the closest goblin with the back of his hand, sending the goblin to the ground. The other backed down and took a step back. Dengar turned his attention back to the human. He put his hands out, palms facing forward. Slowly, he walked up to the human, making sure not to lose eye contact. Sentient species may be more intelligent then animals, but some basic reassurances still had some effect.

Once Dengar was just a few feet away from him, he extended his right hand out towards him very slowly. If the human tried anything, the goblins had orders to open fire and attack. If he was smart, he wouldn't risk it. Though honestly, Dengar hoped he would. "It is customary to know the name of the person you are bargaining with in my people. My name is Dengar, leader of the Goblin War Bands. What is yours?"

[Hiram Cooper]

Hiram watched as the big goblin barked out some orders to his men and then slowly approached the fence. He was doing his best to put Hiram as ease, which was kind of him, but rather useless since Hiram had never exactly been uneasy. The reptilian part of Hiram’s mind watched the Goblin approach with a cold and calculated eye. This could go well or go badly. He decided to try let it go well, putting the rifle away as his own sign of good faith.

Dengar. That was an appropriately Goblin-like name for a Goblin. Hiram carefully filed it away in the back of his mind for future reference. He would probably need it if he continued to go out wandering in the desert from time to time, which he was certain would continue to do, since the wanderlust that took him was a powerful thing.

”The name’s Hiram,” He extended his own hand carefully, shaking Dengar’s. Hiram wondered how exactly the big fellow had picked up on human gestures. Hiram made eye contact, though he usually avoided doing so with other humans except briefly. Humans couldn’t always tell why looking Hiram in the eyes bothered them and it made it hard to talk to them. Goblins never had a problem meeting those cold, flat eyes and recognizing the killer lying just beneath the surface, “Leader of myself and nobody else.”

[Dengar]

Dengar looked at the human as they shook hands. This human, this Hiram, was obviously a man who understood killing, and that made Dengar happy. Other humans he had talked to had all tried to be diplomatic, had all tried to convince him to enter into peace talks with the Dwarves. Whether they had been hired diplomats from the Dwarven government, all Dwarves were considered kill on site, or even representatives of the Terran corporation that traded the most with the Dwarves, and so cared very much of the outcome of the war, Dengar hadn't cared. All of them were now dead, their heads chopped off and bodies fed to the Wingless.

Hiram, on the other hand, didn't seem to waste his time with talking unless it gave him immediate results. Dengar liked that. If Hiram hadn't been a pink skinned human, he'd have done well within the Goblin armies. "Then the deal is made," Dengar said and let go of Hiram's hand. Dengar slowly backed up towards the waiting Goblins, but not turning around. He kept eye contact with Hiram the entire time. Turning your back on this one would be a mistake, and Dengar was no fool. Even if they had made an agreement, not many people would pass up the opportunity to kill him.

As the Goblin party gathered back up around Dengar and they returned to the waiting Wingless, Dengar shouted to Hiram, "Remember, Hiram. I will be back if what you told me was false, and I will ensure you die slowly for it."

[Hiram Cooper]

Hiram watched Dengar carefully as he backed up, not entirely sure if the Goblin would keep his word now that he had his answer. But it seemed he did have some honour in him since he didn’t do anything but return to his war party and the wyrms out in the desert. Hiram heard the words Dengar shouted him to echo across the empty plains.

He called back, “Fair is fair.” Hiram hadn’t lied, so he wasn’t worried about the Goblin returning for those reasons. But a part of him told Hiram that Dengar would return. He had that look in his eyes, the look that Dengar had seen in the eyes of plenty other men. An answer wouldn’t be enough. One of these days, the big fellow would be back for the ranch, or more answers.

Hiram shouldered his rifle as the war party moved out of rifle range and waited for the rest of Shaw’s men to show up. He yawned and wiped his forehead. Deep inside of him, a small flame flickered, the wanderlust banking a little. It didn’t need to be fed today, but one of these days… he would head back into the desert. And if he was lucky, he wouldn’t run into the war party.